Grief
by Leigh Adams15
Summary: Just because you can't stay here doesn't mean this isn't real." A sequel to my Marcus/Katie drabble "Betrayal."


**Title:** Grief

**Characters: **Katie Bell, Stewart Ackerly

**Word count: **2472

**Author notes: **This is a sequel to my Marcus/Katie drabble "Betrayal." It's quite a bit longer and even more depressing, so I hope it doesn't make you cry and that you enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*

The smoke lingering over the alley was starting to dissipate, much to Stephen's relief. There were bodies _everywhere_, and it was nearly impossible to walk without tripping over them. Most were innocent bystanders, those who just happened to be doing their shopping in the wrong place at the wrong time, but every now and then they came across the occasional Death Eater who'd been felled in his tracks.

What had provoked the attack became clear moments later when he stepped into a clearing in front of _The Daily Prophet_'s office. The body was bent, bruised and broken, but the face was still recognizable.

His heart broke a little as he took a knee next to Padma's battered body, checking for a pulse even though the temperature of her skin was a clear indication that life had departed. A look of terror was still vivid in her brown eyes, and he could only imagine what they'd done to her before taking mercy and killing her.

Reaching out, trembling fingers closed his friend's eyes forever. Padma had been their mole inside the newspaper, shuttling information she overheard in the hallways to the Order. It'd been thanks to her that they'd won several key victories in the Cotswalds, Exeter and Manchester. Jaded as it was, he supposed it was only a matter of time before she was found out.

"_Requiescant in pace_, my friend," he murmured.

Rising, he glanced around, allowing himself no time to grieve. There would be time for that later, when he was back home with Cassie. His young wife, who was pregnant with their first child, was supposed to have accompanied Katie out today. He thanked all the gods that she'd been feeling under the weather and had stayed home. Merlin knew he'd be going out of his mind if she'd been here in this mess.

Quick, heavy footsteps caught his attention, and he whipped out his wand, ready to Stun, Disarm or even kill whoever was approaching. When the person stepped into the clear, he groaned and lowered the wood. "Merlin,Ackers, you're going to get yourself killed."

"I can't find Katie," the younger man said without preamble, his blue eyes darting around the alley. "She said she was coming to the apothecary to get some herbs, and then she was coming home."

Even as Stephen felt a jolt of fear, he reached out to clasp a reassuring hand on the other man's shoulder. "We'll find her, mate. It's just hard with all this smoke."

Stewart nodded and pulled out his wand. A quick spell had the tip illuminated, lighting the murky depths of the eerily empty- save for the bodies and other Order members- alley. Doing as his friend did, Stephen followed suit, and the two men started to comb through the victims, searching for the missing Gryffindor.

"Stephen!"

Glancing over his shoulder, Stephen immediately saw Terry gesturing frantically at him. _This can't be good_. With a muttered, "Stay here," for Stewart, Stephen jogged down towards his classmate. "What is it?"

Terry's green eyes were sad as his gaze drifted towards Stewart, then back to Stephen. "It's Katie," he said softly.

At his words, Stephen's heart contracted in fear. "What about her?"

"She... she's gone. Someone stabbed her through the throat."

Stephen's eyes darkened in anger. "She was murdered." Death Eaters, unless they were carrying out an ordered execution, _rarely_ got their hands dirty. For someone to physically have shoved a knife through a pregnant woman's throat... it had obviously been personal.

The darker man nodded. "Keep Ackerly away, eh? She's... it's not pretty."

"I'll try." Trying not glance back over his former housemate's shoulder- he wasn't sure he wanted to see what was lying at the back of the alley- he turned back to his old friend, his heart heavy. How was he going to tell the man that his girlfriend, the love of his life and the mother of his unborn child, was dead?

Blue eyes, dark with worry, met Stephen's own as he returned. "What's wrong?" Stewart watched his friend's face with apprehension, searching for a resolution. "Is it Katie?"

"Stewart, I-"

Stewart needed no further explanation; the mere fact that Stephen had used his name was enough. He pushed past the other Claw, ignoring his protests and the hand grabbing at his shoulder, trying to hold him back. His mind was blank, blissfully empty save for one lone though that kept repeating over and over and over again: _get to Katie_.

"Ackerly, you dun wanna," Terry's warning was ignored as Stewart gave him his most potent death glare and pushed past him into the alley. As his eyes focused on the body at the end of the way, slumped against the wall, his heart seemingly stopped as his world narrowed in on her.

In death, her face was peaceful; serene, even. Her brown eyes were soft, staring out into the distance, never seeing anything. It wasn't until his gaze moved down that he could truly comprehend what had passed.

A single clean wound passed through Katie's throat; the cut was clean, even perfect. The white skin below the wound was covered with a dark red viscous substance; her _blood_. It was everywhere; covering her robes, on her hands, oozing out onto thecobble stoned street.

There was so much of it, he wondered where it all came from.

A sorrowful sound filled the alley, one that spoke of grief and loss, and all who heard it knew that someone had lost their last string tying them to this war-torn land; Stewart was surprised to find that it came from his own mouth. Tears ran down his cheeks as he dropped to both knees next to her. His denims were tacky with her blood, but he could care less. His Katie, his fiery beauty, was _gone_.

Sobbing, Stewart pulled her limp body into his arms, pressing his lips into her hair. He hadn't told her he loved her enough; he should have told her every minute of every day. And now she was dead, cold to his touch, her eyes never to fire with that keen spark that he loved so much.

His tears doubled when one hand slid to her gently-rounded stomach, where their baby was no longer growing. His _child_, their hope for a new beginning in this barren wasteland that had once been a thriving and diverse society, was dead, and so was the love of his life.

He might as well have died too, for he had nothing left to live for.

He was unaware of the small group that had gathered at the mouth of the small alley; Stephen, fighting back the selfish thanks that Cassie was sick, Terry, his hands jammed in his pockets as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. Heidi, the tears streaming down her face at the loss of one of her closest friends. Zach Smith, stoic and unemotional, his arm around Heidi for support. Four bystanders to Stewart's agonizing loss, yet none of them felt it the way he did.

_Plop_.

_Plop_.

_Plop_.

Turning his face up to the sky, Stewart let the rain co-mingle with his tears.

*~*~*~*~*~*

When Cassie softly shut the bedroom door behind her, Stephen was there to pull her into his arms. One hand carded through the soft blond locks gently while the other splayed out on her stomach, round with his child.

"How is he?" he murmured, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"Not good," she whispered, blinking back her own tears. Had this war never happened, she would never have met Katie Bell, the woman who had become as close as another sister. But it had happened, and they'd become thick as thieves over the past few years. Half of the Order was now in residence at Carisbrooke , Stephen's childhood estate, and Katie and Stewart were no exception; they'd lived under the same roof for nearly four years. It was plenty of time to become close friends. Katie had laughed at Cassie's pregnancy, only a month after her wedding, before her own pregnancy had shut her up.

And now, she was silent for good.

"You are not leaving this house again, understand?" Stephen growled, pulling back to look down at his wife. "Got it?"

"Stephen," she murmured, running her hands up his chest, "love, you can't lock me away until the war is over."

"Watch me."

*~*~*~*~*

Whoever had brewed the Dreamless Sleep potion was either inept, or Cassie had accidentally grabbed a regular sleeping potion; either way, Stewart was _definitely_ dreaming. No longer was he in one of Carisbrooke's spare bedrooms, nor was he asleep. He was... in his childhood home?

"What the...?" he mused to himself, looking around. He was standing in the living room of the house he'd grown up in; the same house that been burnt to the ground during a Death Eater raid on Appleby, trapping his mother inside. There was no way in _hell_ that this was possible.

Was there?

Soft footsteps caught his attention; he whirled around, his eyes widening at the sight that greeted him.

"Took you long enough," Katie murmured, a soft smile on her face.

Two quick strides across the room and he was hauling her up into his arms, running his hands over her arms, her hair, her back as he rained kisses over her face. It was _Katie_, she was _alive_.

"What happened?" he murmured in her ear, stroking her hair. "You were dead."

"Stewart," she said softly, pulling back to cup his cheek gently, "I _am_ dead. You're dreaming, love."

He shook his head. "No, you can't be dead. You just _can't_."

A small, concerned frown was on Katie's face, her thumb tracing tenderly over his cheek. "But I am. I wish I wasn't. I didn't want to leave you."

His arms tightened around her, holding her close. "What happened, Katie? Why are you..." his throat tightened, blocking the words before they fell from his lips.

"Why am I dead?" she asked. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But who did th-" her fingers on his lips cut him off.

"I'm serious, Stewart," she said softly. "We don't have much time together, and I don't want to spend it trying to talk you out of some ridiculous revenge idea."

"Katie..."

"Stewart..."

Stewart scowled and pulled her back against him. "Someone took you from me," he growled, "and that person should pay."

"And they will," she said softly, "in time. "But he isn't worth the dirt on the bottom of your shoes, alright? Promise me you won't go after him." He started to protest, but she gave him a knowing look.

"Alright, I promise," he muttered, resting his chin on the top of her head. She fit so perfectly in his arms, just like she had before she'd gotten pregnant. _Wait..._

He pulled back, gaze going to her flat stomach as his heart rate sped up. "Where's... what happened?"

Katie pulled back with a smile and gave his hand one last squeeze before she pulled away from him. His eyes followed her as she moved about the room, heading towards a new addition he'd missed earlier.

A _cradle_.

"Is that...?" he asked, taking a few, faltering steps forward.

"Stewart," his girlfriend said, turning back towards him with a bundle of blankets in her arms, "meet our son."

His _son_. Merlin, he was a _father_.

At least, he would have been if any of this was real.

Crossing the room to Katie, he reached down to take the wiggling baby from his girlfriend, pulling him into his arms. "Hiya, Grem," he murmured, brushing a fingertip over the tiny nose. "I'm your Daddy." The words brought a prick of tears to his eyes; he'd never get to hold his girlfriend or his son in his arms again.

"I was going to propose," he said suddenly, glancing up from the baby to look at Katie. "I'm sorry I waited."

"I know," she murmured. "It's okay."

"Oh good," he sighed before his brow furrowed. "Wait, how did you know?"

Katie looked sheepish as a faint blush stained her cheeks. "You hid the ring in your bedside table. For a Claw, you sure are lame at finding hiding spots."

He laughed, gaze dropping to the tiny babe in his arms. "Amazing. You're dead and you're still making me feel like a seventh year."

"That's why you love me."

Glancing back up at her, Stewart held out his free hand to her. When she took it, he tugged and pulled her into his side. With a sigh, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging his girlfriend and son close. "I do love you," he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She pressed herself closer to his side, inhaling his warm, familiar scent. One hand trailed over her baby's forehead, smiling when his eyes opened, revealing clear blue orbs identical to his father's.

"His name is Sean," she said, turning her gaze up to his. "So you know..."

He nodded. It didn't need to be said; their baby had a name to put on the headstone. "Sean Jackson Ackerly," he said softly, leaning down to brush a kiss over her lips.

Leaning into the kiss, Katie cupped his face with her free hand. "I'm sorry we never made it," she murmured. "Getting married, our baby, rebuilding the house..."

"I know, love," he murmured, breathing in the minute space between them. "I know. I just wish this was real, and we could stay here forever."

Katie smiled sadly, and reached up to peck him on the cheek. "Just because we can't stay here forever doesn't mean this isn't real. You just can't stay with us quite yet."

Stewart's heart was pounding in his chest as he blinked back tears. "I don't want to go back, Katie," he whispered, tugging her tighter against him. "Without you, without Sean, I have nothing there."

"Don't talk like that," she implored. "You have to go back, Stewart."

"No."

"_Yes_."

"Katie," his voice was strangled, "_please_..."

She was crying now, pressing kisses over his face until she captured his lips with hers. "It's not your time," she whispered. "I wish you could stay with us forever, and you will. Just not today."

"There's nothing left for me there, Kates. You were my life."

Katie shook her head. "Love, there's so much left worth fighting for. As long as our friends and family are still there, you have something to live for. Don't give up. Promise me you won't give up."

"I promise," he whispered, dropping a kiss onto Sean's forehead before his lips founds hers again.

*~*~*~*~*

"I promise, Katie," was on Stewart's lips when he woke from his drugged sleep, the tear tracks fresh on his face.


End file.
